


Teach me how to live again

by zevran_fan_who_cannot_invent_nicknames



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Alternate Universe - Art School, Alternate Universe - Boarding School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Blushing, Fluff and Angst, How Do I Tag, Hurt/Comfort, I Tried, I really did, I'm Bad At Summaries, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Mabari, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slow Burn, Zevran's inappropriate humor, there's a cafe there too?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-01
Updated: 2018-12-30
Packaged: 2019-08-14 05:51:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16487048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zevran_fan_who_cannot_invent_nicknames/pseuds/zevran_fan_who_cannot_invent_nicknames
Summary: To a stranger's eyes, Yvian Tabris is just like any other art students - well, perhaps more shy and introverted. What they don't see is his past which the boy would rather prefer not to remember and tries his best to do so. However as his last year of high school unfolds, he befriends a bunch of quirky individuals and among them Zevran- a loud and seemingly careless man who then shatters all the walls Yvian managed to put up between himself and the world. For the first time left bare, he will need to confront his past and try to find his own place in all this mess that life is.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Oh, Maker. So this is the first fic I've ever posted. I hope it'll be a nice read!
> 
> Few disclaimers before you start reading:  
> I have never been nor do I know much about attending a boarding school. To all of you that do - I am sorry for any unrealistic parts of the story (of which, let's face it, will probably be a lot). Please, forgive me.  
> In further chapters this story (sometimes explicitly) will touch disturbing difficult subjects such as trauma, rape and suicide - please, keep that in mind before you start reading.

Steam danced over the cup, forming whimsical shapes in the brisk air of the morning. Cafe _Grey Warden_ , freshly opened for a brand new day, was slowly coming to life, two half-asleep baristas fumbling around, completing the morning routine, both yawning openly and without any remorse. Yvian Tabris, a foreign student who had just started his last year of high school, cradled a cup of herbal tea in his hands, blowing softly at its surface. The warmth from the hot drink seeped through the porcelain and his handmade knitted gloves, chasing away the cold from a morning walk, still lingering in his body.  
The taller of two waiters finished cutting cakes and moved on to preparing tables for the day. Most of them were still to be set, before any other guests arrive. Yvian watched him clean for a while, his eyes following every movement but mind only partially present. There was something hypnotising in the waiter's task, calming too. The predictability of it all, the way he seemed to concentrate on the job as if something terrible would happen if he failed to deliver. Yvian knew that feeling all too well.  
Looking away from the man, he wondered whether the workers still found his morning ritual weird or had they gotten used to it by now. Three days in a week (he couldn't really afford more) he came here after an early morning stroll, sometimes so early that he had to wait for the cafe to open. Each day he bought a cup of tea and sat by the furthest table in the room, alone and silent. Each day same people with tired eyes and forced smiles took his order and even though they saw him so often, they didn't even know his name. And it was fine. Yvian wasn't a fan of chatting. Starting a conversation, desperately searching for idle subjects to fill in the silence with... challenges he usually preferred not to face. So he kept his thoughts and ideas to himself, choosing to observe the world around him rather than to be its active member.  
A loud noise of breaking glass cut through stale air making Yvian jump in his seat. It was soon followed by a stream of profanities grumbled in a very angry, very annoyed voice. The boy cast a worried glance over his shoulder. It didn't sound like anything more than a shattered mug or two but perhaps he was mistaken. Perhaps someone there needed immediate help...  
"Don't worry, everyone's alive. Probably."  
Jumping again, Yvian turned around. Next to his table stood a tall young man with a messy mop of dark blond hair - the waiter whom Yvian had been watching setting the tables. Despite dark circles under his eyes, he was grinning from ear to ear. Yvian tried to swallow down a lump of anxiety that formed in his throat, suddenly uncomfortably aware that he's the only one customer in the entire cafe. Trying not to make it too obvious, he shifted in his seat so he was closer to a wall and further from a man in front of him. Only once his back hit the stone surface, did he answer:  
"Probably?"  
The waiter laughed.  
"Yeah, that's one of Duncan's recruits, still learning to do his job properly. Stuff like that can happen to everyone. I for the record dropped an entire tray on my first day. I still wonder why I wasn't fired on a spot..." he said and sank down onto a chair on the opposite side of the table, apparently unconscious of his listener's discomfort. Yvian was just secretly glad he didn't choose the one next to him.  
"Oh right, you don't work here so you probably have no idea - _recruit_ means a new employee. That's just how we call them, tradition of the workplace. By the way, I'm Alistair."  
Smiling, the waiter reached out his hand. Still on edge but somehow fascinated, Yvian accepted a handshake and introduced himself:  
"Yvian, nice to meet you." Alistair's palm was warm if a bit calloused, his handshake strong. Just like his expression, it channeled sincerity and honesty. Slowly, Yvian felt himself starting to breathe normally again. Curious, he asked:  
"You mentioned a name while talking about recruits. _Duncan_ , I believe? Who is he?"  
Alistair gave a short chuckle.  
"Duncan, yes. Of course you wouldn't know who Duncan is, what was I thinking?" he shook his head, clearly embarrassed. "Once more, I forgot not everyone works here. Allow me to enlighten you. Duncan is the owner of the "Grey Warden"! Well, it's actually a chain - he has several cafes all around southern Thedas. I actually used to work in Denerim up until I left for a student exchange to Orlais. Since I met Duncan personally once when I was in town, I wrote an email and he allowed me to work for a year here as well! It's the newest of all cafes so they were in need of experienced workers. He's a good man, Duncan. Very fatherly."  
As this monologue continued, Yvian managed to forget about his initial stress, stiffening slightly only once when Alistair mentioned Denerim. Otherwise, he listened, fascinated and a bit in disbelief how much and how fast can one person talk. Finally, when the waiter stopped to take a breath, he managed to say:  
"So you're from Ferelden. Me too."  
Alistair beamed.  
"Wow, really?! Are you studying here? Or perhaps you're on the exchange like me? I left for a year. I study at the University of Denerim. Sports science,: he exclaimed, straightening his back. It was clear he found great pride in his studies. :I even got a sports scholarship. And you, what are you studying?"  
"Um..." Yvian fidgeted with a hem of his oversized sweater, his eyes dropping from the other's face and onto his tea. "Nothing, actually? I'm not in college yet," he murmured. "I moved to Val Royaux for my last year of high school. The art programme here is one of the best in the world."  
Alistair's eyes were so huge they looked like saucers. Subconsciously he leaned a bit towards the boy and asked in a scandalized whisper:  
"And you want to tell me that your entire family moved to another country just so you could attend your dream school?!"  
Yvian couldn't help himself. He had to laugh.  
"No, of course they didn't!" he said, his smile finally reaching his eyes. "It's a boarding school."  
Alistair blinked.  
"Oh. Yes, of course it is. Why haven't I thought about it? Situations like this one will probably be the reason why I.ll be working as a waiter 'till the day I die. My absent-mindedness is legendary... which actually reminds me of quite a crazy story! Do you want to hear it?"  
This shyly hopeful smile was back on Alistair's face. His expression reminded Yvian a bit of a puppy. A big soft golden retriever puppy. Watching it, he felt as if refusing to listen would be an equivalent of viciously kicking said animal. He took one nervous glance at his watch. The amount of time he still had left wasn't as tragically short as he expected. Taking a sip if his tea, he smiled softly and nodded encouragingly. Alistair's eyes lit up.

***

Alistair turned out to be a great storyteller. He was animated and although he occasionally fumbled for right words, his wits and sarcasm made up for all the mistakes. Much to his own surprise, Yvian found himself laughing more than once. Soft attentive smile graced his face, encouraging Alistair to carry on. Few times, another waiter approached them, his annoyance and intentions both clear but his colleague just weaved his complaints aside and continued to talk. Sipping slowly his cooling tea, Yvian listened intently, heedless of the passing time.  
Feeling oddly at ease, he'd gladly stay longer. Unfortunately, despite his wishes, time passed and all too soon he had to bid his companion farewell. He finished his drink, grabbed a worn-out backpack and stood up, Alistair following suit.  
"I'm sorry but I have to go," he admitted, an apologetic expression on his face. He already felt guilty for interrupting Alistair's latest story. "I'd love to stay longer but if I did, I'd be late for classes."  
The man grinned, a devilish glimmer suddenly appearing in his eyes.  
"Why don't you skip them then?" he suggested. Yvian chuckled, more nervous than not, and shook his head.  
"I'm afraid I can't. My art history teacher isn't of the forgiving kind." Subconsciously, he ran his hand through his long hair. After a quick thought he added:  
"Sorry."  
To that Alistair just shrugged, unfazed.  
"Hey, you do you, right?" he said. "I guess some people, and you're one of them, are just more responsible than me. Just like Duncan always used to joke. Damn it, why does he have to be always right?" he scoffed mockingly but his bright eyes revealed that there was no real venom behind his words. "Well, in that case, good day to you. I guess. Come back whenever you feel like it. I'll better get back to work too. First customers are already coming in and the recruit will probably murder me if I'll spend one more minute ignoring my job."  
He grinned for the last time and left. Still relaxed, Yvian glimpsed at his watch and his heart, just like his smile, dropped. Cursing inwardly, he rushed out of the cafe.  
Immediately after he'd stepped outside, a vicious wave of cold autumn wind assaulted him full-force, brisk air incessant in its trial to slip inside his coat, leaving behind goosebumps. Another gust of wind sent Yvian's long black hair falling straight into his face. Blinded and shivering, the biy fumbled with them for a while, desperately trying to get his hairdo under any kind of control, spitting out unruly tresses. Finally he managed to tie them up into a loose ponytail and stuff it under the back of the coat. He considered putting on a hat but decided against it. Instead he just tightened the scarf around his neck and hastily set off, the pavement leading him straight to the world-renowned School of Art and Creation in Val Royaux.

***

Yvian stormed inside the school, good quarter after the bell. He ran up the stairs, shedding his outerwear while at the same time thanking the world for keeping any possible teachers who didn't have classes at this hour out of his way.  
However, as he got closer to the corridor where his class was located, his pace slowed with every step his took. By the time he reached the correct door, he was practically standing still, his heartbeat drumming in his ears, something cold and unpleasant stirring inside his stomach. White faced, he clutched his coat and backpack as if they were supposed to be his shield against all evil.  
The truth was, Yvian hated being late to classes. Not only did he have to endure the irritation so painfully obvious on a teacher's face but also curious stares of all his classmates when he crossed the room as fast as he could to slip onto his self-chosen chair located back in the furthest corner. Seemingly not much, it was enough to make him want to crawl out of his own skin. Enough to make him remember his morbid paleness and soft androgynous features for which he had been mercilessly teased back in Ferelden. Enough to make him feel his soft skin straining to cover all the protruding bones of his scrawny physique, always carefully hidden from others' view by oversized sweaters and shirts. Few stupid steps. It was all it took for all the self-loathe he desperately tried to seal off to resurface again. The rest of the lesson, he spent sitting stiffly, face almost fully hidden under a veil of his long hair, dark blue eyes staring blankly at a desk or an easel in front of him, fighting back intrusive thoughts and unable to concentrate on anything else, let alone a subject discussed by the teacher. The knowledge how weak and pathetic he was to allow such feelings to take over him didn't help at all.  
Yvian hated being late. And now as he stood there in front of the class' entrance, hand already clenched into a fist but not yet raised to knock on the door, he was internally beating himself up for not leaving the cafe earlier. His lungs creaming for oxygen, he reminded himself to breathe normally otherwise he'd unnecessarily put himself into an even bigger panic. He tried to prepare himself for the inevitable flood of upcoming emotions. He closed his eyes and sighed shakily. How much would he give for a miracle, for some sort of deus ex machina to appear and save him now!  
And perhaps some kind of a benevolent spirit was watching over him that day because a miracle happened.  
A strong female voice called out his name in a silence of the corridor. It was that kind of voice that belongs to confident people who know what they want and how to achieve it and despise when someone wastes their time even if only by not reacting to their call fast enough. Yvian spun around. A tall raven-haired woman was walking towards him, her pace quick, her chin held high. Despite the fire in her golden eyes, the boy felt relief rushing through his body as he waited for his school mentor, assigned to him by the teaching council at the beginning of the year.  
"Morrigan," he greeted her.  
The woman nodded in acknowledgement of his words but wasted no time on the greeting herself, getting straight to the point. She cocked her head in direction of Yvian's class.  
"You want to go there?" she asked.  
Sensing the opportunity, Yvian shook his head fiercely.  
"And do you have any tests or assignments or other stuff that would make you obliged to attend?"  
"No."  
"Then come with me, I need to talk to you. I'll tell your teacher you were with me the entire hour so you won't have to worry about their complaints."  
She gestured for him to follow her and Yvian did just that, breathing suddenly much easier than mere seconds ago.  
Morrigan's office was cramped and dark having no window of its own, which was rather unsurprising given the fact that barely few moths ago, it still wasn't an office at all but a spare stockroom. When she was being hired, the principle went out of his way to make it clear where she placed in the school hierarchy. Morrigan didn't work as a full-time teacher anyway. She was an intern from Val Royaux University and, as she'd just started her final year, needed to finish her practice. Why she decided to do it in a high school, forced to help teachers both in and out of classes, when she could easily choose a national art gallery, was beyond Yvian's understanding. Curious, he'd once mustered enough courage to ask and the answer he'd got was as short as simple - the young woman couldn't stand the people working there. She was ambitious, fiercely independent and clearly talented (no average student ever received the orlesian royal scholarship) and, as some of students learned the hard way, hated when others tried to interfere with her ideas and ways to deal with problems. Especially when said people knew less than her. A perspective of being surrounded by such individuals every day while completing her internship in the posh gallery, was enough to drive her far away from said place.  
However, despite her attitude, she turned out to be a decent teacher - firm but consistent and, as long as one stayed respectful, open for intellectual discussions - and an even better mentor. Yvian doubted that any other teacher would give him, still a minor, as much freedom as she did. His morning walks around the old part of the town ending with a cup of tea in _Cafe Warden_ wouldn't go any further than being an idea in his mind. He knew that she was well aware of him sneaking out but simply didn't care enough to do anything about it. She gave him and few other freshly-transferred students who landed under her care space, fully believing that seventeen-years-old people were capable of taking care of themselves and din't need to be led by a hand. So far, she seemed to have been correct and the mutual respect between both sides only grew during first two months of school, strengthened by the unspoken rule that unless her students do something immensely stupid, she won't try to overly control them.  
As Yvian stepped inside the office, Morrigan closed the door behind them. She sighed and flopped on her chair, gesturing for the boy to take a seat on the opposite side of a desk. She stretched her neck, wincing in disgust when it cracked loudly. Yvian watched it all with worried eyes, waiting for the woman to speak. After the previous relief, the anxiety seemed to win over again, his mind desperately searching for any punishable deal that could have made even Morrigan want to discuss something with him.  
Finally, she concentrated her sharp stare on him.  
"How are you doing, Yvian?"she asked. Taken off guard, Yvian furrowed his brows in confusion.  
"I'm not sure I understand..."  
"There's nothing to understand. Are you fine?" she repeated. Yvian sensed the irritation hidden behind that question. Unsure whether it was directed at him or someone else, he draped his arms around his torso, forming an imaginary shield behind him and the world. He breathed in but before he could speak up, Morrigan continued, boredom and aggravation palpable in her voice:  
"Now, if it was for me to decide, I'd never ask you about your personal matters. Your issues are yours to manage. Alas, your father made an unfortunate mistake of mentioning your... past while he was signing you up for the school and then I made a mistake of doing my practice here and now I'm forced to obey the will of my supervisors until I finish it. And the principal has been pestering me with questions about you for way too long. He just won't shut up. They want to know how you're doing, whether there's something wrong. You're their first Fereldan student in almost a decade, they can't risk anything happening to you. What would the world say if they allowed it? Or even worse, if you hurt yourself? So let me ask you again - are you fine? Any answer will be satisfactory. These people don't care about you, boy, the only thing they're interested in is good PR."  
Yvian blinked.  
"Oh," he managed.  
His throat was uncomfortably dry. He swallowed but without any results. Once more, his stomach twisted into a tight knot. Eyes cast downwards, he tried to force himself to speak, the silence stretching between the two, thick like oil. Morrigan stared at him intently, her expression void of any emotions except for weariness and calm determination. It was clear she wanted an answer and won't let him go until she receives one. Still, Yvian tried his luck:  
"Aren't there rules that forbid teachers from asking about such things?" he mumbled, his eyes pleading silently. Morrigan was unyielding.  
"Alas, 'tis not your medical history or therapy details they want. If that was the case then indeed it would be a violation of your privacy. Unfortunately, I do believe that these inquiries, as tactless as they are, could be qualified as caring about students ot any other blatant nonsense that looks good on the school website."  
She grimaced.  
"Honestly, Yvian, I know this is ridiculous. For all I care, just made up something. Give me the minimum. A single sentence will be fine. Anything to shut their mouths up. I deserve some peace from their incessant whining."  
Yvian nodded silently, guilt heavy in his heart. He shouldn't burden her with his troubles. They weren't hers and, by all means, she shouldn't even be aware of them, let alone be obliged to do something.  
"Well, I..." he fidgeted with his fingers, suddenly unable to find any words. The only thing he knew was that he'd much prefer to be back in class than here. Even if it meant being late. He was staring intently at the desk in front of him, refusing to meet the woman's eyes. He tried again, his voice choked with emotion:  
"Well. I am fine. Everything is good. It's difficult but I'm working through it. I even want to volunteer to help in a local animal shelter so I have something to do. Keep my weekends busy when I'm not learning. Yeah, it's all really good, you don'y have to worry."  
He gasped for breath. He didn't even realised he was breathing so shallowly, there were spots in front of his eyes. He dug his nails in his palms, the pain bringing him back to the moment. He glanced at Morrigan questioningly. Was that enough? Please, let it be enough. She was watching him cautiously, her brows furrowed and lips pursed. She shrugged.  
"Thank you, Yvian. I'm... glad you're getting better," she said dismissively. "Now, that wasn't that hard, was it? It should definitely keep the principal off my way. I hope for as long as possible. Now, I have a lot of work to finish but a promise's a promise - you may stay here until the bell. Just don't disturb me."  
She stood up and stretched. Yvian gave her a weak smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.  
"Of course. Thank you. I'm sure they will bother you no more. After all, I'm really better."  
Even to his own ears, it sounded hard to believe.

***

The evening couldn't come early enough and Yvian found himself swarming with gratitude when he was finally able to fall down onto his own bed, weariness taking a hold of his body. The dormitory was blissfully silent, safe a low whistling of the wind on the other side of a window. When Yvian had got into the school, his father had been prepared to fight tooth and nail for a single room for his son. Luckily, it turned out to be completely unnecessary as every student had such privilege.  
Yvian stared at the ceiling, lost in thoughts and motionless. The senior year was exhausting with all its classes and exam preparations. It left him without energy, too tired to fight with himself, his mind venturing off to memories he'd prefer to leave buried deep down. But they were here and they didn't want to go. They left him small and vulnerable and wanting to scream at the top of his lungs while at the same time hide from everyone and never come out.  
He buried himself under the cover and hid his face in the pillow. His body and soul both hurt all over but it was nothing he wasn't prepared for, wasn't used to. His past had been keeping him hostage for a long time now. He knew what to expect and didn't need anyone to help.  
_Especially,_ he thought to himself as he felt a tear run down his cheek and sink into the sheets, _when they all act so gallantly but no one actually cares._


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is almost wholly dedicated to Leliana and her relationship with Yvian. I wanted to establish a strong core for their future friendship since I truly adore her in the original game where she's my Warden's closest friend. 
> 
> Enjoy!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First scene described in this chapter contains triggering content regarding sexual harassment. It is all written in italics so it's easier to distinguish. You can skip it and still be able to understand the story if you want to avoid such explicit content.
> 
> There are some timeskips in this chapter, not long, usually around few weeks or less. I tried to make it noticable in the story but still thought it would be more comfortable for you to read if I point it out here.

_Even though the bedroom door locked away most of the sounds of the party, the deafening music from before still echoed in Yvian's sensitive ears. He sat on the bed, in absolute darkness, staring mindlessly at the empty cup in his hands and swaying delicately back and forth as the world around him did the same. His head spun way too much for just few cups of homemade punch.  
_

_Stupid party. He wished he hadn't come at all. But he'd let Shianni talk him into going and now he had to hide in a bedroom, away from all the people downstairs. They were all so noisy..._

_Out of nowhere, a hand reached for his cup and put it aside. He jumped. There was someone next to him. How had he not realised it earlier? And why couldn't he he move faster?  
_

_Slowly, as if he was underwater, he turned his head to the side but with no lights couldn't see anything more than a silhouette of a tall man. Why didn't he turn the lights on earlier? He couldn't remember... He felt a warm palm settle over his hand. He flinched violently and snatched it away._

_"Hey, no need to get all skittish. It's only you and me in here." The voice was male and rather unpleasant, harsh, almost gruff. Its owner clearly tried to sound reassuring but, in Yvian's opinion, did a poor job of it. The hand was back, this time on his shoulder. He shook it off irritated._

_"Go away, I want to be alone," he moaned. He tried to stand up, get away but a wave of dizziness made him nearly fall from the bed before he even put his feet down. The stranger caught his arm, steadying him._

_"Now," he chuckled. There was something infinitely wrong in that sound. "Easy there. You shouldn't have drunk so much. I bet you're all flushed and hot."_

_He reached out and touched the boy's face. Disgusted, Yvian grimaced and batted him away. the last comment making his stomach twist with fresh nausea._

_"Don't..." he whined. "Let... let go-"_

_The man didn't allow him to finish._

_"Hush." The palm slid from his shoulder to his chest._

_"It's okay" Yvian's back hit the bedcover after a brutal push._

_"It's just us, we're alone." He moved and suddenly he was hovering over the boy, Yvian felt the stench of his intoxicated breath, heard him pant down his neck. He tried to squirm away, his pulse loud in his head, paralysing fear amplified by the alcohol. But the man forced him to lie down, his hands roaming over his chest. One of them found a hem of his shirt and slid under it. It was cold and coarse and repulsive. Yvian's entire body jerked at the contact._

_"Stop," he pleaded through a tightly squeezed throat. "Stop, what are you doing, leave me alone..."_

_Shaking, he pushed at the starnger's chest, tried to get him off himself. The man snarled impatiently. He caught his wrists and pinned them down with one hand. His grip was strong, first bruises already started to bloom under fingers. He stuffed his face in the raven hair and inhaled deeply. Yvian's stomach twisted with nausea, he tried to scream but no sound wanted to come out of his mouth._

_"I've been watching you all evening," the man whispered. He pressed himself closer to the lithe body underneath and sighed in obvious pleasure. "I simply couldn't stop staring. Your hair, your pale skin... And your eyes? Oh... they're so gorgeous, so blue, so sad... I wish I could see them now..."_

_Yvian squeezed his eyes shut. The room was spinning. First tears fell down his cheeks as he shook all over. He screamed when he felt teeth on his earlobe._

_"No, no, no, please, don't!" he yelled, trashing and kincking as much as the close distance allowed him to. Once again, the man pinned him brutally down._

_"Silent now," he hissed and pressed his lips to his hair. "You're so beautiful and you make me hard like no one else before but you need to stay calm now so we can have a bit of fun."_

_Yvian sobbed when he felt a knee press between his thighs and his ears caught a noise of unzipping._

_"Stop, please, stop," he begged between desperate gasps for breath. "I don't want to, I don't want to..."_

_A hand tugged at the waistline of his jeans and he wailed but still no one heard him, the darkness around swallowing down all his cries._

 

***

 

Heart pounding hard, its pulse muting all the other noises, limbs tangled in the sweat-soaked sheets tightly enough to immobilise, head lying on something wet and cold...

It took Yvian a long time to realise he was in his own bed, in the dormitory, safe and sound and this time truly alone. The room was pitch black. Frantically, he managed to free himself from the bedcover and stumble out of bed. Blindly he ran towards the door of his room and then down the corridor, conscious enough to try to do it as silently as possible and not wake up any other sleeping students. The floor was cold under his bare feet, wood slick and slippery.

He reached the bathroom and locked the door behind. Immediately, he dropped to his knees in front of the toilet and retched until there was nothing left in his stomach but acid. Breathing heavily, still shaken by painful cramps, he laid his head on the porcelain. Wild panic caused by the nightmare was slowly subsiding, leaving behind weakened muscles and shivering body. With a shaking hand Yvian brushed his hair away from his face. They were tangled and soaked with sweat, just like his pyjamas. He put a hand over his forehead - feverish. More out of habitude than clear thinking, he raised slowly to his feet, flushed the toilet and went back to his room to fetch a towel and a change of clothes.

He turned on the shower and slid under the warm stream of water. Unable to stand, he sank down to the floor and sat there hugging tightly his legs to his torso. It was as if all the energy left him in one moment, a feeling he knew all too well, leaving him numb to everything but a dull ache in his chest.

He stared at the shower doors with unseeing eyes as his fingertips traced lines on his forearms, their touch soft, featherlike. Back and forth, back and forth... Absentmindedly, without any notice, a habit so deeply ingrained it seemed more of an obsession. His skin, still soft and boyish in most places, roughened there visibly. His stomach was in knots, loathing and shame making him sick to the core. He hated it, hated himself. For not fighting, for not being strong enough to chase them away, for everything. No matter how many times he tried to convince himself that everything was alright, that he was still his own person, that the life could be the same as it used to, he never succeeded. He couldn't get rid of the nightmares nor anxiety that left him lifeless for hours, sometimes days. The memories still haunted him, every day, every night, always...

Something warm and solid touched his left shoulder blade. It wasn't water. He screamed and flung himself awat, to the safety of the shower's corner, pressing his back to cold tiles. The shrill noise resounded in the bathroom, small space amplifying its volume. Yvian trembled with disgust and terror. There were human hands on his body, somebody was touching him! But there was no one here, no one, he was alone, he checked... It was his mind playing trick on him. It must have. It wasn't real, not this time. Still the feeling didn't stop if anything, it grew stronger, almost painful. There were hands, hands everywhere, just like before... He hugged his legs to his chest and put his head between his knees. Curled like that, he cried as quietly as possible, choking back sobs, not wanting to wake anyone up.

It was enough, enough, _enough_. If only it was possible to wish it all away...

 

***

 

Next morning brought along beautiful weather. People, already starved for the sun despite it being September, gladly got rid of their windbreakers. Tired faces turned to blissful sunrays ignorant of the sting caused by gazing at it too long, too intently. Painful tears welled up in the eyes and yet they carried on, smiling at the sky which finally looked at them favourably, allowing one day of warmth before the gloom and mounting cold of autumn's end. Lively noises from the outside reached the dorm's open window. Children's joyful cries and laughter, chatter of voices, heels clicking on pavements, distant roar of car engines... The world was moving as fast as ever, maybe even more than usually for a lazy warm Saturday.

Yvian lay in bed, unmoving. Tucked under the cover way up to his ears, face smashed against soft fabric of a cushion, he stared blankly at the opposite wall, dry eyes hurting from the strain of forcing them open almost half of the night. After he'd got off the shower, he'd returned to bed but hadn't fallen asleep again. Hadn't dared.

He knew he'd have to move soon, leave the bed, dress up, make himself a breakfast... the familiar hollow ache inside him grew, his lungs locked in a tight loop of irrational fear. So this was how today will be. One of those days when he could feel the world around him slip away, his own heart caving in and leaving solely a gaping black hole on its empty place, the dull ache taking over his entire body... Yvian knew there was no point in fighting, by the end of the day the hurting always won. Especially when he didn't have to do anything, had no obligations to fulfil. They would otherwise make him leave the room, interact with people. Even when he really didn't want to. Perhaps, it was weakness, perhaps he shouldn't let it eat him. But he just felt so tired.

This wasn't sadness. Yvian understood sadness. He understood tears and choked-back sobs and the dreadful awareness of loneliness that followed soon after. He had learned long ago how to force it down, hide the teary eyes behind a curtain of hair and a soft shaken smile. He had no weapon against _this_. This despair that struck without warning, stealthily like a murderer in the night. Except it never went away, never killed fast and disappeared but left him alive, exhausted and empty, memories he wanted so desperately to forget swarming in his mind. He tried to find a pattern, tried to prepare himself. But never succeeded. Nothing seemed to help. Nothing went away. Nightmares continued to haunt him without consequences and the emptiness kept on devouring his heart during days.

On a nightstand, right next to Yvian's head the alarm went off. As if if a dream, he watched his own arm move and switch his phone off before dropping back onto the bed, limp. It was time to stand up and go, he had things he planned to do: projects, homework, studying. He had to move if he wanted to finish today thus not doing it tomorrow after the work in the animal shelter. But his body didn't want to cooperate, thoughts flying through his mind too lazily. Why did it have to be so difficult to think? He couldn't make him mind work. A single frustrated tear ran down his face. He was hopeless, couldn't do the simplest task...

He buried himself even deeper in the covers. Tomorrow it will all be better. Tomorrow he'll have more strength and will do his best. Just not today...

 

***

 

And tomorrow came. Way too soon.

Even while standing, keeping his eyes open required a lot of strength and determination. Yvian's focus was constantly shifting from the world around him to nothingness of exhaustion. A soft rambling of a bus he was in didn't help in staying awake at all. The warmth of his long coat lulled him back to sleep. He was gripping a bar hung under the ceiling like it was the only thing keeping him conscious. Which probably was true. More than once he felt his hand loosening its tight clasp on it and only then did he force his eyes open, unnaturally dry and aching. As if he had sand in them which he couldn't get rid of. It was Sunday and, as scheduled, he was heading towards the animal shelter.

Yesterday he managed to get out of the bed around noon, for long enough to eat a mild meal and do some of his school assignments. Afterwards, he dragged himself back under the covers and stayed there, still too afriad to allow himself some sleep but lacking any strength to act. As the night came he dozed off occasionally, jerking awake on every louder noise whch left him staring at the door in cold terror, almost expecting the man from his nightmares to barge in through them.Once more, as his alarm went off, he was already awake.

The view outside of dirty, suspiciously greasy windowpanes changed between each stop, the scenery slowly but consistently turning from a grey depressive city centre into grey depressive suburbs, occasional speck of green its only treat. Thick fog covered streets and house gardens, making the landscape eerie, almost surreal.

The bus broke sharply. As it buckled, one of passangers stumbled into Yvian. The boy, pulled out of his stupor, flinched vividly, his hear skipping a bit. Roughly, he moved away from the man's reach. He felt his skin itch underneath the coat where another's body brushed his. The man looked at him sheepidhly and apoligised gingerly. Yvian cursed himself inwardly. Once more he overreacted, there was nothing unusual about this incident. People fall into each other when inpublic transport, everybody knew it. He smiled, waved the man's concerns away and turned to the window, stuffing his face into the warm wool of his scarf and focusing on the road ahead.

The bus stopped again and the door opened, letting in a wave of chilly air. Yvian checked the name of the stop, it seemed correct. He grabbed his backpack from between his legs and got out. There, he stood still for a while, breathing deeply, enjoying the fresh air and free space surrounding him. He felt his nerves calming. Travelling in public transport was definitely something he preffered to avoid, it was always too crowded, starngers standing too close, stumbling into him just like the man from before. He yawned and rubbed his swollen eyes, gathering his thoughts. He took out his phone and turned on the maps, typing in the address of the animal shelter.

 

***

 

It turned out to be located in an ordinary building which faded seamlessly into the background of single-family houses surrounding it. Occasional barks came from the inside and only got louder when Yvian walked through the front door. There was a young secretary sitting at the desk, entirely engrossed with petting a small brown dog with a furiously wagging tail and a happy blissful expression. She gushed over it, scratching its ears lovingly. Yvian smiled at the sight and stepped forward.

“Hi,” he called, waving awkwardly to get the other’s attention. The secretary jumped. She turned his way while the dog started and rushed to greet him at the entrance. It stuffed its nose into Yvian’s leg and sniffled curiously. Yvian chuckled, petting its head.

The secretary turned out to be a student from a local university. She greeted him warmly albeit a bit chaotically, gave him the briefest information, most importantly that he’ll be working with another, already experienced volunteer who will also explain to him how everything worked in the shelter. Then, she pointed him where he should find his future co-worker and turned back to the dog who was barking and ransacking the office. Which was how Yvian found himself on the building’s backyard, meandering through a maze of loud happy dogs running around him, sometimes straight under his feet. There wasn’t so many of them as most animals were locked in cages but apparently the smaller and friendlier ones received the right to wander freely and now were greeting a newcomer. He looked around the backyard, taking in his surroundings. It was surprising, how big the shelter’s terrain turned out to actually be. It didn’t look so large from the outside. He guessed that explained why the owners needed every help they could find.

He found the volunteer inside the furthest building in the area intended exclusively for big dogs. The girl was crouching on the floor next to a big black mabari. She wore loose trousers and an oversized sweater, old and used, clearly her working attire. She wasn’t tall nor short, thin but not skinny. In fact, from a distance, she wouldn’t be distinguishable at all if it wasn’t for her fiery red hair which formed a halo of flames around her face. She was petting the hound, its head lying on her feet, eyes full of trust but also deep sadness. Yvian could hear that she was also whispering to it something he was too far to understand. She seemed focused entirely on her task, oblivious to the world around her. The mabari waggled its short tail from time to time but didn’t cheer up at all. Despite the lack of any results, the girl didn’t stop, devoted to her mission. A soft true smile bloomed on Yvian’s face, making him look less worn out.

“Hello,” he called out. Both the girl and the dog spun around on the sound of his voice, startled, their eyes big and attentive. Immediately he rushed to apologise, his voice sheepish:

“Sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you! Neither of you. Umm... yes. Please, forgive me for interrupting but I think I had to find you? My name’s Yvian, I’m a new volunteer here. I... I was told you’d know what I’m supposed to d-“

“You’re supposed to work with me!” the girl cut him off, a radiant smile blooming on her face. She jumped to her feet. Her moves were graceful but energetic as if some inner force fuelled her from the inside. Which was probably true, given how bright and joyful her eyes seemed to be. They fit perfectly with the rest of her face – its round shape and numerous freckles.

“I recall now,” she continued, “Josie mentioned you some time ago. But I was so busy with all the dogs I ignored it entirely. I should’ve waited for you in the reception! I’m so sorry for forgetting! Please, you need to forgive me, I didn’t want you to feel unwelcomed! My name’s Leliana, delighted to meet you!”

She ran up to him and, before Yvian could react in any way, closed him in a tight embrace. Yvian felt his heart  freeze in terror. Without thinking, he pushed Leliana away.

“No!” he shouted, gasping loudly, his face even paler than usual. But the panic faded as quickly as it had appeared, leaving only the rushing pulse and the guilt when he looked at a confused and hurt expression on Leliana’s face.

“I’m... I’m sorry, didn’t intend to do that,” he whispered, wrapping his arms around himself, his eyes downcast. “It’s not your fault. I just don’t like hugging, that’s all. I’m so sorry, I must’ve made you uncomfortable...”

“Hey.” The redhead’s voice was soothing but she said nothing more until he glanced back again. The smile was back on her face, soft this time just like her green eyes as if she was talking to a scared animal.

“It’s okay, Yvian, don’t apologise. I shouldn’t have done that, not everyone likes hugging.”

“You couldn’t know. So, please, don’t blame yourself. I’m really sorry for my reaction.”

“Now, like I said, quit apologising. I’d better show you around. And I have to introduce you to all of the animals under our care.”

She turned around to the mabari she’d been petting before Yvian had arrived. The dog was lying calmly and watching them with its head on its paws. Its ears perked up only once – when the boy shouted but otherwise it seemed to be disinterested in everything around. It looked at both volunteers blankly with huge infinitely sad eyes.

“This is Anik. He’s a mabari, four years old, super smart. And friendly! I asked our supervisors once why couldn’t he run freely in the main yard. It would be good to him – meeting others dogs and people. They told me he’s too big, would scare the clients away.”

“I’m afraid they were correct, he really is huge,” Yvian said, glad for the change of subject. He kneeled in front of the dog, extended his open palm. Anik raised his head to sniffle at him, his tail wiggling a little.

“I know,” Leliana sighed. “But that’s not his fault he was born a mabari with a soft heart. He wouldn’t hurt a fly!”

Yvian scratched behind the hound’s ear. Somehow he felt her words to be true. The mabari didn’t resemble its ferocious ancestors in the slightest, ears spread flat, fur dull. Huge black eyes like two coals blinked slowly at Yvian as if the dog wanted to agree with his thoughts. The boy looked up at Leliana and asked:

“Has he always been so sad?”  
The girl’s smile dropped.

“Ever since they brought him here, two years ago. His owner died and there was no one to take care of him. Poor boy, all on his own... I try to spend as much time as possible with him, give him the attention he needs. Sometimes, I even sing. It seems my voice is calming him but nothing ever changes. I think he’s too sad to enjoy life fully now...”

Yvian stared at the dog intently.

“I know how that feels,” he murmured softly as Anik nudged his palm half-heartedly. He gave him the last scratch and stood up. He turned to Leliana.

“As much as I’d like to stay with him, there must be a lot of work ahead of us. How about we move to actually doing it?”

 

***

 

As the day went on and Yvian and Leliana finished all their work, the sun decided to peek through clouds and grace the world with half an hour of actual daylight before setting. The sunrays pierced the everlasting fog, chasing away the grim ambiance, if only for a little while. Yvian undid his coat and let the coattails fly on the warm autumn wind alongside his scarf. It was a poor, worn-out thing – he knitted it himself and now wore it everywhere if only the temperature allowed him. Made from thick wool in several shades of blue – from deep indigo to dove blue, it was his shield against the unexpected and comfort when confronted with his anxiety rising during social situations. Despite its age and ragged ends, Yvian cherished it like a priceless treasure. A gust of wind sent the scarf flying straight into Leliana’s face. Apologising, he grabbed it hastily. She just laughed:

“Hey, don’t worry, it’s not your fault it’s windy. As far as I know you can’t control the weather.” She smiled at him reassuringly. After they’d finished their shift, she’d offered Yvian to accompany him on his trip back to his quarter. Wanting to catch at least some of the sun, she’d proposed to walk on foot. They found themselves heading down the suburban pavement, side by side. Leliana knew how to navigate the city incomparably better than Yvian and  was more than happy to guide him. Asked about her seemingly spotless orientation, she waved her hand dismissively.

“Please, that’s nothing. You’ll know this place as well as I do soon enough. I think I’ve seen each and every tiniest corner of these streets while taking dogs from the shelter on walks.”

“So you’ve been a volunteer for the shelter for a long time now?”

“Oh, yes! Actually, I started on my senior year of high school, just like you. Then I continued after I got into my university and here I am! Second year of music study at Orlais’ famous college and third year of my charity work!”

Leliana’s words made Yvian stop dead in track. He looked at her in a clear amazement, eyes coming alight for the first time since Friday.

“You study at my dream school,” he said. Suddenly, standing next to her, he felt so insignificant in comparison. She had to be truly gifted, a true modern bard. Morrigan attended Orlais Univeristy of Arts as well and once, when she’d been in a less murderous mood, had told him a bit about courses. Yvian felt nervousness threaten to suddenly overcome him – the world truly worked in funny ways, he, an anxious useless nothing, met an art student from Val Royeaux.

“That’s why you were singing to Anik,” he blurted out of blue, his cheeks burning visibly. He cursed his paleness. “I’m sure no one but a musician could come up with such a good idea.”

“That’s so sweet of you to say but you’re definitely overstating my impact. The poor boy’s still unchangingly sad...”

He pursed his lips and nodded, shoving his hands in pockets.

“I don’t know how to help... but I’d love to try. Do you think I could take him for a walk next weekend?” He glanced at Leliana, apprehensive but hopeful. He liked the dog... it reminded him of himself. He wouldn’t mind bonding more with it. The girl smiled and nodded.

“As long as I’m walking with you for the first time, I see nothing against it. You see, the shelter has a rule that you can’t walk a dog you haven’t before on your own. We need to make sure you can handle it. So at the beginning you’ll have to endure my company during walks,” she added jokingly. Yvian’s eyes went wide.

“Don’t say that!” he exclaimed. “I like you!”

Leliana’s laughter cut off whatever further protests he could attempt.

“Yvian...” the girl half-choked, trying to vainly stifle her giggles. “I was joking.”

“... Oh.”

Yvian went red again.                                           

“But thank you for the compliment, I am very happy you like me. I assure you the feeling’s mutual. Actually, are you busy now?” she asked. “We’re reaching the centre, you could show me this favourite cafe of yours about which you were talking earlier. I can’t believe I haven’t been there yet.”

It took Yvian a while to fully comprehend that she was waiting for an answer, his mind still occupied with the embarrassment of missing her joke and making a fool of himself. He bit his lip, deep in thought, unsure. He didn’t lie earlier – talking to Leliana made him feel better, she seemed so full of warmth and joy. But at the same time, something stirred inside his mind causing him to hesitate. It was dark and repulsive and, oh, so familiar. Out of nowhere, there was sweat on his back and his chest constricted. He tried desperately to breathe normally so Leliana wouldn’t notice something was wrong. She was looking at him patiently, her face void of any negative emotions. Yvian’s brain was running lapses, providing him each second with new scenarios how their meeting could go wrong. What if he said something stupid, offended her by accident? Last thing he wanted was to make her dislike him and that was certain to happen if he agreed to go. He wasn’t charming nor interesting. He couldn’t laugh as freely as other people no matter how hard he tried. Talking to him was destined to fail and then she would finally see him as he truly was – boring and socially awkward.

He couldn’t do it.

“I’m afraid I can’t today,” he managed to choke out through a tight throat. “I’ve got plans already.” He forced himself to smile. Apologetically. Leliana frowned.

“Shame. I’d really love to get to know you, Yvian. But no worries, I’ll drag you out another time. You seem like a really nice person.”

He looked at her sceptically as his brain filled itself with numerous argument against her words but said nothing. A new overwhelming wave of exhaustion hit him full-force. He needed to be alone. They were passing by a bus stop, he glanced at the timetable and thanked the world for its mercy.

“A bus line I know is going from here, if I take it, I should be able to get back to my school. Thanks for the walk and showing me around. I really enjoyed it.”

“Oh. Are you really in such a hurry? I thought we would walk all the way?”

“I have a lot of work, I’m sorry.”

“Ugh, I remember my senior year in high school – it was a nightmare! I’ll be going then. See you, Yvian, I’ll keep in touch.”

“Please do... really. Bye, Leliana.”

When Yvian sat on the bus, safely tucked in the furthest corner he could find, his phone beeped in his pocket. It was a picture of Anik taken by Leliana with a “To keep you happier throughout the week. Now you’ll have to come next Sunday to see him” message underneath. He smiled softly and texted back. They exchanged messages for the rest of his ride home.

 

***

 

For the third time this evening Yvian crumbled his draft and threw it against a wall. He groaned and pressed his palms into eye sockets as if he wanted to force some inspiration back into his mind and then into his art. As much as he detested it, he found himself awfully void of any creativity. The canvas stood empty, the drawing tablet wasn’t even connected to his laptop and the sculpting materials cowered pitifully in the furthest corner of the room.

It was as if something had blocked him.

He stood up, paced few nervous circles around the room, sat again. He had to create something. Now, it wasn’t just the matter of his whims and desires. He had tests to pass and projects to complete because as much as he wished for such a thing, they wouldn’t magically finish themselves. It was only October but Yvian couldn’t get the words of his father out of his mind. The words spoken to him instead of a real farewell and thus printed in his brain with a waterproof ink: _Remember to be dutiful out there. Focus on your study, Yvian, and you will be alright. Nothing else should matter to you this year._ And now he was failing. Due dates were beginning to loom over him and Morrigan kept asking about his choice of universities.

It was all too much.

He fell on the bed in the corner and, burrowing his face in a pillow, imagined he is screaming, screaming at the top of his lungs, letting go of all the emotions that had choked him for so long, made his life miserable. But he did nothing. He just lay, face down, on the covers and breathed through thick material. It was difficult that way but he found that there was no energy in him left to even move his head. The air around became thick and still and the twilight which slowly crept onto the world behind the window seemed to him like an omen of the apocalypse.

A sudden loathsome fear gripped his mind and body. He felt the overwhelming need to run and yet couldn’t move. His heart started to race and black spots danced behind his shut eyes, even though he didn’t remembered closing them. When had he closed them? And why? All these emotions seemed to him so pointless, absurd as if taken from one of his nightmares where he often, oh way too often, was terrified and helpless in the face of such panic. Were they to haunt him even in the time of his consciousness now? Frustration and anger swelled inside him. He was weak for allowing this repulsive hysteria to be, a normal person would pick themselves up, nay, they wouldn’t experience such a thing in the first place. It was his own fault. Why couldn’t he be normal?

A choked sob raked his body when first angry tears escaped from his tightly shut eyelids and seeped into the pillow. He started to cry. He was crying. Miserable whiling sounds mixed with desperate gasps for breath and formed a pitiful melody that ran through the room and hung high under the ceiling. That was all he could do. And he felt so terribly worthless and alone.

Yvian let the tears flow, too tired to fight against them. Afterwards he lay still and, safe for finally moving his head, made no move. He always felt like that once he’d calmed down – there was no relief in it, only emptiness as if someone or something sucked all the life out of him. He stared blankly at the opposite wall. A memory came back to him, a memory of another night when he lay just like that for the first time. But that night had been different. Everything had hurt then, his world had been rendered unto a small burning feeling of pain and unbearable shame. Ever since then he wanted to die...

Violently he flung himself from the bed and rushed to a desk where his phone was lying. The empty room suddenly scared him, it was too silent, too eerie. It made memories seem real. He had to get out, even if only for few hours. With shaking hands he sent a message to Leliana. It wasn’t the first time, he asked her to meet him in such a sudden manner. Every time, he felt like he was imposing on her, she was a student of such a famous university, certainly she had other more interesting things to do than to walk around town with him solely because he had to kill his own memory and being with someone kept his thoughts from wandering. Sometimes it made him feel sick with guilt, the ugly realisation that he was taking advantage of his new (and only) friend. But guilt was better than what he was feeling now. Better than silent terror of solitude, lying curled into a ball on a bed, lifeless and utterly disgusted by himself. And perhaps it was only his desperate mind projecting but it seemed that in the last three weeks, they’ve got along quite well, Leliana inviting him herself more than once.

The phone rang and Yvian grabbed for it hastily.

_I’ve some spare time. :) Would love to see you. Grey Warden? We could walk around for a bit and end in the cafe with hot drinks?_

The relief, as irrational as the previous fear, rushed through his body. He dressed himself and slipped out of the room. He won’t have to see this damned dorm at least for few next hours.

It wasn’t long for him to reach the main square of the old city. He stood there, in front of the cafe’s door, waiting. Through the windowpane he saw a familiar figure meandering between tables. He waved at Alistair when he turned around, the waiter spotting him as well and waving back, huge grin plastered over his face.

“Yvian!” The boy looked up just in time to see Leliana hurrying in his direction. She wore her usual pastel coloured peacoat, a beret over her bright red hair and a long scarf that flew behind her on gusts of wind.

“You look awfully under the weather,” she cried the moment she reached him. “What happened, dear?”

The boy shrugged dismissively.

“I’m just exhausted,” he lied. He didn’t want to talk about his emotions. He didn’t want to talk about anything that involved him. He continued: “I felt like I needed a walk but wasn’t exactly up for going alone. And since I don’t really have any other friends I thought I’ll ask you. I’m glad you came even though you must be busy.”

She waved her hand dismissively at the comment.

“Please, it’s the beginning of the year and I’m in college! What do I have to do apart from attending some parties?” she laughed. “Come, I’ll tell you what happened on our last band practice, you won’t believe me! It was crazy.”

Yvian nodded grateful for the subject that allowed him to be silent and simply listen. Encouraged, Leliana started her story. He draped his blue scarf tighter around his neck and followed, her excited babbling chasing away the darkness even if only for a short time.

 

***

 

“Here you go, one raspberry winter tea.”

A tall glass clicked loudly at the contact with the table. Yvian jumped in his seat and raised his head from a hollow between his crossed arms where he was resting it seconds ago. He blinked in confusion, not really remembering what had just happened or where he was. He must’ve accidentally fallen asleep... A tall well-built man loomed over him. Still not thinking clearly, Yvian froze, cold instinctive fear clutching his chest and throat. The man didn’t seem to notice his discomfort putting down another plate in front of him and babbling loudly:

“Also, I got you this extra-“ he paused mid-sentence and furrowed his brows. “Yvian? Are you all right? You look as if you’ve seen a demon. Is it me? Or do I have something on my face? Damn, I knew I shouldn’t have added parsley to my lunch!”

Finally, the sense of reality came back to Yvian. Alistair. This was Alistair, the only waiter in _Grey Warden_ he knew personally. His friend, not a dangerous stranger. He sighed and ran a shaky hand over his face.

“No, everything’s fine. You look fine,” he murmured. “It’s nothing, really. Sorry, I didn’t want to make it look like I’m unhappy to see you. I’m just deadly tired. Like always,” he added under his breath.

Alistair shrugged.

“Don’t worry. It’s the end of October and the weather is already beyond awful – people act weird. Yesterday I had a client who yelled at me in Tevene. I didn’t understand a single word but I’m pretty sure he told me to go kill myself with a spoon. He wanted to see the manager. It was all very awkward.”

He shook his head at the memory of the incident. Yvian gave him what he hoped looked like an encouraging smile.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” he said in earnest. “Please, don’t kill yourself. With a spoon or otherwise. You’re a good person, Alistair.”

The waiter laughed incredulously.

“I don’t intend to! Here, I just thought a little story would cheer you up. You seem to be in a drastic need of it. Andraste’s grace, you look like death itself!” he exclaimed. Then cringed. Visibly. “That was pretty blunt, wasn’t it? Sorry, oh Maker, why do I always say things and then they come out all wrong?”

Yvian sighed deeply but said nothing. There was no point in telling his friend he took no offence. Throughout last month he learned that self-depreciating humour was basically an inseparable part of Alistair’s personality. He yawned and rubbed his stinging eyes, trying to force some life into them. His tired gaze dropped to the tea in front of him and...

“Alistair,” he said. “There is a piece of cake here. I didn’t order it.” He stared at him quizzically. The man’s smile dropped. He shuffled anxiously on his feet.

“Well, technically... no, you didn’t,” he admitted. “It’s a gift. Every employee gets a free drink or a snack every now and then. Thought you could use some sugar so here it is. I didn’t know what you like so I just chose my favourite... wait. You like chocolate and caramel, don’t you? Please, tell me you do.”

Here it was again – the puppy face. Yvian frowned.

“I’m very grateful but I can’t possibly accept it,” he said .

The surprise on Alistair’s face was almost comical. It was clear the idea of a refusal hadn’t even crossed his mind.

“Why not?” he asked. “That’s what friends are for, to use them for buying food.”

“No! This is your privilege for your hard work...”

“And so I can give it freely to anyone I want! I’m not listening to your protests! Oh, look at all the customers waiting for their order, I need to go. You stay here and enjoy your cake. Say hi to Leliana for me, it’s been a while since the last time she came by.” He stood up and ran away to other tables.

“Alistair!” Yvian cried after him. To no avail, he could scream all he wanted and still saw only the waiter’s retreating backside. He groaned frustrated but also somehow amused and turned to the cake. It looked more than tasty – a big piece of brownie topped with golden caramel... Yvian gave in, grabbed a fork and started eating. It did taste as good as it looked. He sighed happily as it melted on his tongue. A vague reflection that it mustn’t be healthy to eat one’s first meal in the evening and so sugary flashed through his mind but quickly dissipated in the bliss. He tried to eat something for breakfast but after a flashback ended in the toilet. Then, after lessons, he didn’t have strength to go to dinner and instead ended dozing off in the library on his open books. It had all become an awful routine, tiredness and stress never leaving him, not even for a second. It was almost as gruesome as two years ago, right after...

A loud sound of a fork falling on the floor saved him from the cursed memories. It must’ve slipped out of his hand. He picked it up quickly while some of the customers glanced at him curiously. He busied himself with the cake, trying not to pay them much mind. Where was Leliana... she should’ve been here hours ago. Yvian’s heart sank. Something must have happened. Something bad for sure. Perhaps she was dealing with some terrible problems and because he was such a terrible egoistic neglectful friend he didn’t even notice. And now she was back at home or maybe even in hospital, in need of support and he was sitting here, oblivious and selfish.

With a shaking hand, he reached for his phone and typed a short message: _Where are you?_

The moment he sent it, a door to the cafe swung open and Leliana herself barged in, panting, coat ruffled and face flushed. Spotting Yvian, she made a straight line to his table. She dropped down onto a chair with an annoyed growl.

“Friday’s traffic in the evening hours is a nightmare! Quelle horreur!” she cried, tossing her outerwear carelessly at another chair. Her eyes shone brightly, red hair a mess. She smiled at him. She seemed perfectly healthy and as happy as ever. Next to her Yvian looked even sicker than he felt, with deep shadows under his eyes, deathly pale skin and visible bluish veins on his neck and hands. Consciously, he untied his hair, letting them cover his face.

“But you’re here despite the traffic,” he pointed out. “You came.”

“Of course I did, silly. Why wouldn’t I?” she asked, clearly surprised. “Wait... you thought I wasn’t going to show up?... Yvian! We meet every week for a tea and coffee here, why would I start evading you now?”

“I always wait for you to get bored...” he murmured from behind his hair. And immediately had to dodge a handkerchief Leliana threw in his direction.

“Sometimes, you’re just ridiculous. I forbid you to say that!” Yvian just nodded. She sighed helplessly and waved at the waiter to order her usual coffee.

“How about we change the subject,” he proposed. “Alistair asked me to say hello to you. He wanted to know if you were coming today.”

Leliana smiled. Politely albeit a bit uneasily.

“That’s very nice of him,” she said slowly, weighing every word. “Unfortunately, I’m afraid he’s not exactly my type...”

Yvian looked at her in confusion, oblivious. Then the realization of what he’d just said hit him. He flushed crimson and, groaning, buried his face in his hands.

“No,” he cried out. “that’s not what I meant!”

If such a thing was possible, her loud pearly laughter made him go even redder.

“Yvian, you can act so adorably sometimes, none of my friends is as clueless when it comes to romance as you are.”

“I don’t like to think about what you call romance,” he pouted. “In fact, I’m very happy without a relationship. I’d be too tired and busy to get invested anyway.”

Leliana gasped, her mouth twisting into a mockingly appalled expression.

“Now, don’t say that! Everybody needs another one to love! And some rest when we’re at it. Even I can see that you must get some, Yvian. You seem to forget that you’re only human. You need sleep. And free time! It’s good that the autumn break is starting soon.”

He didn’t answer her, breaking the eye contact and looking down at his tea as he pursed his lips. Leliana frowned, her own smile leaving her face.

“Yvian?” she asked softly. Her fingers twitched as if she wanted to reach out for his hand but didn’t move. She knew already that the boy hardly ever appreciated sudden contact. Instead, she leaned forward, searching for eye contact. She inhaled sharply, there was nothing left in him of this soft calm joy from seconds before which usually hid under all the exhaustion. Only layers of sadness and pain. She could swear Yvian actually looked... scared?

“I doubt I’ll get much rest during the break, Leli,” he confessed, his voice barely a tormented whisper. “I don’t really like going home.”

“Why?”

He shuddered.

“I... I just don’t. Please, don’t ask.”

It was such an awful statement, so devastating in its simplicity. Throughout last month she watched him carefully. He seemed to be carrying some darkness in him. The kind of darkness that comes from terrible memories or deeply hidden secrets. The one that makes you sad at the core, almost unbearably so. She could see that despair in Yvian, even when he smiled, even when he laughed. It was heartbreaking. She wasn’t about to force him to tell her what had happened to him but it must’ve been nothing good. A wild determination to help him, as much as possible, swelled in her heart. In a rush of emotions, forgetting about rationality, she grasped his hand. Yvian’s entire body stiffened immediately and he jerked, trying to yank his hand back but she held to him tightly.

“Then you must come live with me for the break!” she exclaimed.

“Leliana... please, let go, _please_.” He was looking at her with wide eyes, shining in the light with sudden tears, his voice soft and shaky. He wasn’t just scared now, he was terrified. Leliana let go of his hand like it was burning. Immediately, he wrapped his arms around himself, as tightly as possible.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry!” she hurried, almost as scared by his reaction as he himself. “I don’t know what came over me! I promise I won’t touch you without a warning again. Will you be fine? Do you need something? Yvian? I’m so terribly sorry, please talk to me.”

He shook his head.

“No, it’s okay, Leliana. I- it’s okay. Not your fault.” He blinked few times to get rid of the still lingering wetness. “You were saying something? Of great importance I assume?”

“Oh, yes. Well. You mentioned that you don’t like going home for breaks, right? So, why don’t you come live at my place? I’ll have a pretty wild first week but all save for one party will be at my friends’ flats. And if it the part’s at mine’s, you can close yourself in my bedroom. Or join us, whichever you prefer! That way you’ll be happy and safe and won’t have to go home!”

Yvian looked at her as if she went crazy.

“I cannot possibly ask that of you.”

“But that’s the point: you’re not! I’m offering freely. Of course, I’d greatly appreciate if you provided food for yourself or at least added some cash for grocery shopping but apart from that, you’re as welcome as any of my friends.”

“I sleep very badly. I’d disturb you both night and day.”

“I don’t care. And sleep like I’m dead after partying anyway.”

“And you’re so sure you don’t want me to pay you?”

“Don’t be ridiculous! Come on, Yvian, agree. Friends are supposed to help each other. And I am your friend, even though a new one.”

Yvian looked away, unsure. But there was something peculiarly similar to a glimmer of hope in his eyes, some hesitant light as if he wanted to but couldn’t really believe in his luck. If he stayed with Leliana... he wouldn’t have to come back to Ferelden, to _that_ city...

“You’re sure you won’t mind?” he whispered, still looking away.

“Of course not! You need to stop imagining I don’t like you, Yvian. So?”

“... Yes.” Leliana squealed in excitement.

“Great! You can move in first day of the break or later, however suits you best! I’ll be waiting!”

Yvian nodded and finally looked her in the eyes. A weak but real smile bloomed on his face.

“Thank you, Leli. You- I-  you really have no idea how much this means to me. I’ll have to write to my father to let him know that I won’t be visiting but I’m sure he won’t mind.”

Leliana beamed.

 

***

 

Yvian’s email to Cyrion, his father:

Dear father,

I hope everything is all right back at home. Morrigan told me you reached out to her asking about my wellbeing. I am sorry I haven’t written to you for so long, recently almost all of my free time was consumed by school and projects, I was simply too busy to send any message to you. However, everything is fine, you need not to worry. I already fell in love with Val Royeaux – the city is simply beautiful.

Anyway, I’m writing to you to let you know I won’t be coming home for the autumn break. My friend offered me a stay at her place and I accepted. She is trustworthy and I am looking forward to it. Please, forgive me for not returning. Try to understand my position, I simply cannot bear the thought of being in Denerim now. If you’d be so kind to send me more money, I could buy myself food during my stay at Leliana’s.

Once more, I am sorry, father. For all my negligence and for not seeing you this break.

Give my warmest regards to Shianni and tell her I’m very proud of her being accepted to the college. I’m sure she will be able to change the world with that law degree, just like she’s always wanted to. I wish I had managed to tell her that myself before my departure.

I hope you all stay in good health,

Your son, Yvian Tabris

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: When Alistair tells his story about Tevene customer, I wanted it to be a reference to a latin curse since Tevene language is based on latin. It goes like this "Te odeo, interfice te cochleare" and can be roughly translated as "I hate you. Kill yourself with a spoon."


End file.
